Revenant
by halfmyheart
Summary: The end of the world is not only about surviving the unsurvivable, it is also about learning to live with the aftermath. After the world ends, the survivors of the SGC must flee Earth and seek sanctuary with an unlikely ally.
1. The Sky Is Falling

**Title:** Revenant **  
Author:** halfmyheart **  
Rating:** M **  
Summary:** The end of the world did not come from the sky, it came from beneath the ground and, in the end, the survivors of the SGC had no choice but to flee from a dying world and seek shelter in the most unlikely of places. But survival is not limited to living through the storm, it is also about learning to live with the aftermath. **  
Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This form of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. **  
Warnings:** Violence and character death. **  
Notes:** I do not have a beta reader so any and all mistakes are all mine. **  
Chapter:** 1/?

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 **Chapter I: The Sky Is Falling**

When the mountain fell on her head, Sam was in the elevator on the way to the gateroom.

The elevator groaned in protest and then screeched to a halt. She jabbed at the control panel with her free hand but the buttons did not respond. She hit the 'open door' button but the doors remained closed.

Sam quelled her rising panic with several steadying breaths. One of her greatest fears was being trapped in an elevator. It was silly for someone who fought dangerous aliens on a daily basis but everyone had their own irrational fears and hers happened to be elevators.

She jabbed at the unresponsive console more vigorously. The lights flickered ominously and she swallowed hard. She surmised that the doors would not open because they were stuck between floors. She was about ready to prise them open with her bare hands when she first heard it and her blood ran cold.

A low rumbling like thunder in the distance heralded the beginning of the end. It grew louder and louder and the elevator began to shake. Debris that broke free from the shaft above her rained down on the top of the elevator and she ducked down into a crouch, instinctively covering her head with her arms. The lights blinked and then the small space went dark. The elevator jostled on the cables, grinding and groaning, but it held fast. For the moment.

Lieutenant Elliot, who had been silent for the entire ride down, suddenly became very animated. "What's happening? We're stuck, aren't we? Oh my God, are we going to fall?"

Sam did not respond. In truth, she was considering that possibility herself and the odds of their survival if the cables above them did break free from their moorings or snap, and she did not like their chances. Cheyenne Mountain complex had been built during the height of the Cold War and Sam was certain that at least some of the systems had not been updated since then. The elevator, for instance, was an old elevator and the safety features that existed in most modern elevators did not apply in the one they were standing in. The only thing that kept the elevator from falling was the cable and pulley system and if that failed they were going to reach the bottom floor a lot faster than they had planned.

Fear gripped her heart in a vice, but she forced herself to push past it. The best thing to do in an emergency was to stay calm which, quite frankly, was easier said than done.

More debris slammed into the top of the elevator and the thin roof caved in like the lid of a sardine can. Dust, sharp metal, and chunks of concrete poured into the elevator, raining down on their heads. Sam coughed as the dust filled her lungs, making it hard to breath. She tasted blood in her mouth, mixed with the grit of dust, and realized that she had bit her tongue.

"Major? Major!"

Just then, the sound of the steel cables above them snapping in half reached her ears, and the elevator began to free fall the remaining three stories. Sam dropped her morning coffee, spilling it all over herself, and grabbed onto the handrail, holding on for dear life. She felt like she had left her stomach somewhere above her, and the sensation made her feel nauseous. She was in free fall relative to the falling elevator car and the weightless sensation would have been exhilarating if not for the fact that the bottom of the shaft was racing up to meet them in the form of probable impaling and lacerating debris. She remembered reading an article about what to do if one was ever trapped in a falling elevator, and it suggested lying flat on the floor, but given their sudden weightlessness, that option was about as useless in that moment as that particular kernel of thought.

"Hang on, Elliott!" She shouted, unsure if they would survive the fall, but certain that she had to at least attempt to keep them both calm on the short trip down.

The elevator crashed violently into the bottom of the shaft and Saw was thrown against the rubble that had fallen through the ceiling with enough force to knock her out cold. When she came to, her head was pounding and her vision was dim and blurry.

"Major Carter? Are you okay?" asked Elliott from the opposite corner.

"I don't know," she said.

Her face was covered in blood from her head wound and her right arm hung at a funny angle by her side. She tried to move it, but the excruciating pain that followed the movement left her with no doubt that it was broken. She sucked in several deep breaths until the pain receded slightly, enough for her to think straight, and the she reached into her backpack and retrieved a small flashlight. In spite of the pain, she was grateful to be alive. There was a curious sensation in her left leg and she looked down to find a piece of the cable buried in her calf.

"Holy Hannah," she whispered. " _Holy Hannah_!"

The cable was sunk deep into the skin, possibly dug into the muscle, and it was bleeding like a faucet. She inhaled deeply and held it. Using her good arm, she snatched the cable out of her leg. It came free with a sickening ripping sound and the breath the she had been holding clawed its way out of her chest like the death howl of a wounded animal.

"Major Carter, are you alright?" Elliott asked fearfully.

Sam tore a sleeve off her jacket and made a makeshift tourniquet around her leg to slow the bleeding. "No, but don't worry about me."

She retrieved the flashlight from the floor near her feet and pointed it toward her companion. The small beam illuminated Elliott, crumpled in the corner, his leg pinned beneath a huge pile of twisted metal and heavy concrete. His face was pale and wrinkled in pain. He looked about as bad she felt.

"Can you move?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "No, Ma'am. I'm trapped and I think my leg is broken."

Sam swiped at her eyes with the remaining sleeve of her jacket, trying to clear her vision of blood and dust, but it was a futile attempt. The blood flowed freely from her wound and the dust had yet to settle from their crash.

Elliott's voice shook with pain. "What the hell just happened, Major?"

"I don't know. A bomb or maybe we were attacked from space," she said slowly. "Whatever it was, it must have ripped through the mountain, crippling the base."

Elliott grimaced, his already pale face turning ashen. "So, does that mean that no one is coming for us?"

Sam looked away, unable to meet his gaze. He was so young and so frightened and she had no answers for him. Instead of adding more fuel to the fire burning in his imagination with guesstimations, she turned her attention to their surroundings.

The doors to the elevator were little more than a heap of sharp, twisted metal. The roof was completely caved in, and large debris formed a small mountain in the middle of the floor between the two of them. The elevator shook from a small aftershock and more debris broke loose from the shaft and rained down on them. Sam covered her head with her hands and waited for the danger to pass, but she was afraid that another aftershock would bring the entire shaft down on their heads effectively burying them alive and shattering any hope of survival.

She grabbed her bag and stood on shaky legs. Stars popped in her vision as she limped her way around the twisted metal, somehow managing to lacerate her right hand on a the edge of what used to be a part of the ceiling. She hissed as pain lanced through her hand, but there was nothing she could do to stop the bleeding. She was already cradling her broken arm against her chest, holding it with her other hand so that it did not hang and bang into anything, exacerbating the agony.

Carefully, so as not to trip and stumble, she straddled a large hunk of concrete and swung her good leg over one of the snapped cables. Once her foot touched the other side, she drug her bad leg over the tiny mountain, loosing her balance in the process and nearly falling flat on her face, but she managed to catch herself with her good hand, but at the expense of her broken arm which swung free and slammed into the wall. Biting back a string of curses that would have made her sound more like a sailor than a scientist, she slid down the wall to sit beside the Lieutenant.

She cringed at the sight of Elliott's leg in the pale beam of her flashlight. His lower leg disappeared at the knee under a large piece of concrete and there was a shaft of rusted rebar impaling his thigh, pinning it to the floor of the elevator. Blood seeped out around the entrance wound but the rebar kept him from bleeding out. If he were lucky, it had missed the main artery, but it did not matter if she could not free him and get him some help. He would still bleed to death from his injuries.

"Don't worry," she said as reassuringly as possible. "We're going to get out of here, but right now I need you to calm down and try to breath normally. Can you do that?"

Elliott's expression was doubtful, but he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Good. Okay, I'm going to try and clear some of this debris away so I can get a better look at that leg of yours."

There were smaller pieces of rocks and metal everywhere and Sam began to tediously rearrange the jenga tower of ruble, careful not to inadvertently shift the large piece of concrete and accidentally crush Elliott's leg.

She only had one good arm with which to work so her progress was slow. She felt dizzy from her head wound and she had to sit down when her vision started to swim. It was hot in the elevator and getting hotter by the second. Sweat beaded on her temples and drenched the back of her shirt.

She moved a few small pieces of fallen debris and the larger piece shifted dangerously. Elliott whimpered in pain.

"I'm sorry," Sam said as she sat back down. "I need to rest."

Elliot's nodded. His face was ashen and Sam was worried that he might blackout.

"Talk to me, Lieutenant."

"What do you want to talk about, Major?" He asked quietly, his breathing labored and ragged from exertion.

"Tell me about your family."

Lieutenant Elliot shrugged. "There's not much to tell. My parents divorced when I was a kid. My sister and I lived with our mom in a small apartment near downtown Denver. My mom remarried when I was in high school. I never cared for my step dad. He was a real hard ass." He trailed off with a grunt of pain.

"Just hang in there Elliott. We're gonna get out of here."

 _Think, Sam. Think!_

Perhaps the best course of action was to escape the elevator and bring help back. Given her current state, it would be difficult enough just to get herself out of the elevator. But where would she go? How would she get out of the shaft? She couldn't climb, not with her broken arm and injured leg.

"Damn it," she hissed in frustration.

Elliott tried to smile at her through his pain. "Don't worry, Major. I'm sure someone will find us soon."

Sam tried to return his half hearted smile, but she failed miserably. "Yeah, sure."

Time moved so slowly that is seemed to stand still. Sam did not know how long they had been in the elevator, but it felt like an eternity.

She used Elliott's jacket to make a tourniquet above the rebar impaling his leg, but it did not stop the flow of blood entirely. She was worried that he had lost too much blood, and his languid state only exacerbated her worries.

Her stomach growled and she rummaged around him her pack, victoriously pulling out a protein bar. She ripped it open and broke it in half. "Here, Lieutenant," she said, offering him the other half.

Elliott stare at her hand in uncertainty. "What is it, Major? I can't see it."

"It's a chocolate chip protein bar. Eat it."

Even after eating the protein bar, Sam was starving. Her stomach was so empty it felt like it was gnawing on her backbone. She had one bottle of hot water that they took turns sipping on. She knew it would not last forever, but the chances were they would die of excessive blood loss before they succumbed to dehydration.

"Maybe we should make some noise, beat on something" Elliott suggested after several long moments of empty silence. "Someone might hear us and come to investigate."

Sam agreed with that theory, but she was also afraid that too much vibration might cause some of the debris above them to shift and collapse on top of them. Instead of beating on the metal, she chose to scream herself hoarse.

"Hello! Is anyone out there? Please help us. Hello! We're in here."

Eventually, Sam ran out of energy to yell and silence reigned in the elevator. She tried to stay awake and she tried to keep Elliott awake, too, but her injuries finally took their toll and she found herself nodding off.

She slapped herself on the face. "No, no, no!"

Elliott was slumped over and for one frightening second, Sam's heart skipped a beat. "Lieutenant? Are you still with me?" She asked, shaking his shoulder to rouse him.

He mumbled something incoherent and Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

She checked her watch. It was almost midnight. She rubbed her eyes, but the tried itch that made her eyes burn and sting persisted and would not be easily rubbed away. The wound on her head had finally stopped bleeding but the injury to her calf was still weeping. Stiffness had set in and she could barely move her leg without significant strain which caused the calf wound to flare like a wildfire.

Aside from the flashlight, which Sam had turned off to conserve battery life, it was completely dark inside the elevator. Somewhere far above, a faint light flickered and buzzed, but it was too weak to permeate the darkness at the bottom of the shaft.

 _Screech. Scratch. Tap._

"What was that? Did you hear that? Hello? Is someone there? We're in here!"

 _Screech. Scratch. Tap._

"Hello! Please help us!" She shouted, climbing awkwardly to her feet and banging cautiously on the doors.

She could heard footsteps drawing close overhead and assumed that the elevator had hit the bottom of the shaft just below the bottom floor of the base.

The sound of debris being moved from one place to another was followed by the screech of nails on a chalkboard as the doors to the floor above them were leveraged open. Light flooded the elevator and Sam blinked hard.

"Hello down there! Is anyone hurt?"

Sam did not immediately recognize the voice but she was glad to hear it all the same. "Yes, Lieutenant Elliott is pinned by debris and I can't get his leg free by myself."

The voice sounded surprised. "Major Carter? Is that you Ma'am?"

"Yes. Who's that?"

"It's Captain Masbeth and Major Davis. Are you injured Ma'am?"

Sam was happy to hear that Major Davis had survived. He had always been a nice guy. "My arm is broken and my leg is badly wounded, but I'm okay. Can one of you climb down and help free the Lieutenant?"

"I'm coming down," said Major Davis. "Stand back."

The end of a rope was tossed down into the elevator and Major Davis slowly descended into the hole in the roof that had been formed by falling debris. He handed her a lantern which she placed in the corner for optimal illumination.

"His leg is trapped under that large piece of debris," she said, pointing at the obvious.

Major Davis inspected the rebar pinning Elliot to the elevator floor and the boulder sized piece of concrete sitting on his leg. "If I can lift this debris, do you think you can free his leg? You'll have to slide it up the rebar to free it."

Sam grimaced. "Yes."

"Okay, on three then. Elliott, on three."

Lieutenant Elliott gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. "Alright."

Major Davis and Sam exchanged determined glances. "One, two, _three_!"

Sam braced herself for the flood of pain in her shattered arm as she grasped Elliott's leg and yanked it up and off the rebar. It came free with the crunching of skin and bone.

Elliott's screams nearly deafened her in the enclosed space, but she continued to wrangle his leg until he was completely free of the debris.

"Alright, his leg is out."

Major Davis dropped the concrete and the elevator shook with the force of the impact. He crouched over the young Lieutenant and removed his belt, using it to cut off the blood flow to the younger man's leg above the wound. "We have to get him to the docs before he loses any more blood. Can you climb?"

Sam shook her head. "No."

"Here," he said, circling the rope around her waist and tying it securely. "Masbeth will pull you up. Watch your head, there are some sharp pieces of metal hanging around the entrance to the main floor." He peered up the shaft and gave Masbeth the thumbs up. "Major Carter is secure. I need you to pull her up and then throw the rope back down."

"Yes, sir!"

Sam grabbed the rope with her good arm and held on tight as Masbeth slowly reeled her in like a fish. She ducked her head to avoid slamming into a column of exposed rebar and electrical wire, and she grabbed onto the edge of the floor when it was finally in reach. Masbeth grabbed her by the belt on her pants and hauled her over the side and onto the cool hallway floor.

She gulped in the fresh air and tried to ignore the writhing pain in her arm and leg, but her body was on fire and no amount of wriggling would free her from the agony. As she lay there, face down on the ground, breathing in dust and bits of insulation from the ceiling, she began to feel cold all over as the adrenaline wore off and the blood loss started to take it's toll.

Once Major Davis had freed Elliott, Captain Masbeth helped Sam to her feet.

The emergency lighting was not functioning but there were glow sticks every few feet to illuminate the corridor and to mark the areas where the rescue teams had already searched for survivors. The hallways were a labyrinth of debris and wiring hanging from the ceiling. The bodies of the dead were scattered here and there. In a time such as that, life took precedence over the dead.

The infirmary was overflowing with people in various states of duress. The infirmary proper had been cordoned off for triage purposes as the operating room was already past capacity. Most of the injured with non life threatening injuries were waiting in the hallway on mismatched chairs and cots. There were orange glow sticks and battery powered lanterns illuminating the hallways around the infirmary. It was a chilling scene made all the more terrifying by the moans and cries of the wounded.

She tried to block out the screams from those with broken bones being set and injuries being stitched up with little to no anesthesia because their supplies had already been exhausted by the sheer number of wounded.

Captain Masbeth helped her to sit down on an empty cot in the hallway. "Okay, Major?"

"Yes, thank you, Captain."

He found her a blanket and wrapped it around her shaking shoulders. "I'll go find the doctor, Ma'am."

Sam searched the crowded hallway for familiar faces. A few beds down, a young airman whom she recognized from SG-12 was lying unconscious and swaddled in a white blanket. On the opposite end of the hallway, Rodney McKay was sitting against the wall, holding an icepack to his head.

Across from her, Reynolds lay staring up at the ceiling. There was blood everywhere. He made a gurgling sound and tiny bubbles of blood spilled out of his mouth and down his face.

Sam frantically searched the hallway for anyone in a white coat, but there were too many wounded and not enough doctors. She watched Reynolds die right there in front of her, choking on his own blood, and there was not a thing she could do about it. She closed her eyes and tried not to blame herself, but she felt guilty. Guilty for surviving.

A wave of sorrow gripped her heart and tears threatened to overwhelm her. Sitting on the cot in the hallway, listening to the cries of the wounded and dying, it would have been so easy to give into despair and hopelessness.

"Sam?"

She turned at the familiar voice and the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips despite herself. "Janet!"

Janet Frasier, the head doctor and one of Sam's best friends, was standing beside her bed, looking relieved. She reached out and threw her arms around Sam's neck. "Thank God you're alive. I was so worried."

"It's so good to see you, Janet," she said, relieved that her friend had survived, but feeling guilty for being so happy about it.

"Let's take a look at those injuries," she began, but Sam stopped her.

"You need to check on Elliott first. He's lost a lot of blood and he's been in and out for hours, mostly out. I'm worried about him."

Janet ignored her and peeled the blanket off her shoulders. "Doctor Spencer can look after Elliott." She took an alcohol swab to the cut on Sam's forehead and Sam hissed in pain. "Come on, this is the easy part. It's all those stitches that are going to hurt."

Sam tried to distract herself from the physical pain with a different kind of pain entirely. "What happened, Janet? Does anyone know?"

The doctor frowned. "I don't know, Sam. I overhead some of the other scientists talking, speculating, really, but the last I heard no one had any real answers. Although, that was hours ago and I've been stuck in the infirmary ever since so I'm probably not the right person to ask for news."

"Have you seen the rest of my team? Jack, Daniel, Teal'c?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Daniel has a laceration to the abdomen and Jack looks like he's been through a meat grinder, but they are both alive and currently holed up in what is left of the briefing room with what is left of the command structure around here. I don't know where Teal'c is or even if he survived. I'm sorry."

It was better news than she had expected, but yet again she felt a pang of guilt. Her heart bled for everyone who had lost their lives, but most of all it bled for her friends who were still missing and unaccounted for. It bled for her family on the surface, and for Janet's adopted daughter, Cassie because we she did not know if what had happened to them had been an isolated event or if the whole world was gone above them.

For her part, Janet was working through her grief, concentrating on helping those she could save.

"You've lost a lot of blood and you're going to need a transfusion. Luckily, we still have some, but at the rate we're using it up it won't last much longer."

One hundred and fifteen stitches and one blood transfusion later, Sam was riding a wave of painkillers and fighting off the darkness.

She wanted to see Daniel and Jack, but Janet put her foot down and ordered her to get some rest.

"When there is something to know, I'll tell you," she said. "Now take two of these and get some sleep. I'll come back to check on you later."

Sam closed her eyes and let the painkillers work their magic.

Maybe tomorrow would be a better day.


	2. Hearts, Souls, and Other Broken Things

**Warning:** Talk of character death.

 **Notes:** I am not a geologist (but I did do some research for this fic) so any mistakes in that regard are all mine. Also, all spelling and/or other mistakes are all mine, too.

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 **Chapter II: Hearts, Souls, and Other Broken Things**

 _She was laying on the ground, surrounded by wilted green corn stalks, staring up at the brilliant blue sky as dark, ominous storm clouds gathered in the distance. A gentle breeze stirred the loose soil and sent dust billowing into the air like a dirty pall over the sun scorched land._

 _Dry lightning cracked across the sky - a spider web of electricity that made the hair on her arms stand on end - and Sam climbed to her feet. She walked to the end of the row and stared out over the rolling sunburnt fields of corn below her that stretched on forever in every direction._

 _Where was she? What had happened to this place?_

 _To the north, the storm clouds were black and heavy, ready to burst at any moment, but as they swept closer, Sam realized that something was wrong. They weren't storm clouds filled with rain come to quench the water starved earth. It was a cloud of ash, toxic and covering everything in its wake in a thick layer of grayish-white that could have been mistaken for snow had it not been for the acrid smell._

 _As she watched the ash draw closer, all of the color was drained from the world in a dizzying rush and everything was suddenly a million different shades of gray. The wind began to pick up speed until the corn stalks were nearly parallel to the ground._

 _Sam turned to look behind her and her blood froze in her veins. Debris from a nearby farm house was swirling through the air around a huge black tornado that was chewing its way across the land toward her. It felt like she had fallen into a terrifying rendition of The Wizard of Oz, except that there was no land of munchkins and magic far over the rainbow, only certain death if she did not move, and her addled mind half expected to see a witch fly by on a bicycle. She began to run away from the twister, toward the ash cloud, but she could not see through the choking dust that billowed around her in the strong wind and she never saw the hole until it was too late._

 _She tripped over the edge and fell, down, down, down until she crashed into something hard and metallic._

 _She flailed her arms trying to find purchase, something she could grab onto to keep herself from falling farther, but she was not the one who was falling, it was the elevator._

 _The screech of metal on metal, the smell of smoke as the braking system tried to slow the elevator, and the sound of the abyss as it swallowed her up where the only things that Sam could see and hear in the darkness._

 _Down, down, down, straight to hell the elevator fell. Until…_

 _BAM._

 _DING!_

Sam jerked violently awake, covered in a cold sweat with her heart pounding in her throat, and the sound of the _ding_ that signaled her arrival at her destination as the elevator slammed into the bottom of the shaft in true cartoon fashion echoed in her head. The past two days came flooding back to her in an instant and she had to cover her mouth with her hand to stifle the cry perched on her lips. The nightmare was nothing compared to reality, but it still had the power to make her jumpy.

She sat up slowly, tense and stiff from her injuries. She was sore all over from the fall and there was a twinge in her neck that had not been there the night before.

"Sam, you're awake!" Daniel was sitting in a chair beside her reading a book by candlelight. He sat up when he noticed her stirring. "Thank goodness. We were so worried about you."

"Daniel, can I have a some water, please?" she asked hoarsely. Her throat was sore from yelling for help and her voice was scratchy.

He reached down and retrieved a bottle that had been sitting on the floor beside her bed. "Sorry it's not cold but the backup generators aren't working."

Sam drank half the bottle before stopping for air. "That is a nasty cut on your hand."

Daniel shrugged. "I've had worse. I was pinned under a falling support beam. I tried to free myself, but it was too heavy and I only succeeded in slicing my hand open on a piece of sharp metal."

"How's Jack?"

"Oh, you know, Jack," said Daniel. "He's always alright. Honestly, though, he's fine. He has some bumps and bruises just like the rest of us. General Hammond was killed by debris so Jack is the highest ranking officer now. He's set up a temporary command center in the briefing room."

Sam finished the bottle of water and sighed in relief, but it was short lived. "Do we know what happened yet?"

Daniel averted his gaze. "It's bad, Sam. Really bad."

She braced herself. "Tell me."

"It was an earthquake."

Sam shook her head in shock. "Cheyenne Mountain was built to withstand earthquakes."

"Not this one," he said with a sad shake of his head. This was _the big one_."

Sam felt her mouth hanging open and she snapped it closed. "What sort of damage are we talking about?"

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. "The planet is basically dying. Everything is gone and the earthquake, well, that was just the beginning." He paused and took a deep breath as if steadying himself for what he had to tell her. "This is what we know: At approximately 8:15 yesterday morning, the San Andreas fault ruptured, triggering the Tacoma fault, and it created a chain reaction of earthquakes and tsunamis that obliterated California, Oregon, and Washington. Then Yellowstone erupted a few hours later after the shifting tectonic plates built up enough pressure to destabilize the super volcano. The ash cloud is huge, covering most of the Midwest and up into Canada, and it is disrupting satellite imagery and landline telephone communication but we are pretty sure the eastern fault was triggered by the mayhem and massive earthquakes have decimated the eastern seaboard as well. We lost all communication with DC shortly after Yellowstone, but we are about one hundred percent positive that it is because DC was hit by a catastrophic event, maybe an earthquake. Worst case scenario: the President is dead."

Sam swallowed hard, her eyes wide in disbelief. "San Andreas _and_ Yellowstone?" As a scientist, she knew it was possible, but as a citizen of Earth it was inconceivable.

"Yes," said Daniel. "And that is only the US. Before our communication to the outside world went dark, we were able to ascertain that there were massive 10.0 earthquakes in the Caribbean, New Zealand, Russia, India, Europe, and the Philippines which triggered tsunamis in Asia and and set off the Ring of Fire in the Pacific. Hawaii is gone, too, and most likely Alaska. An estimated 3.5 billion people died in the initial destruction, and billions more are probably going to perish in the aftermath."

It was difficult for Sam to wrap her head around and next to impossible to wrap her heart around it. The world was, for all intents and purposes, gone. She did not need Daniel to spell it out for her. She knew the earth would soon be completely uninhabitable from toxic ash, drastic weather phenomena: severe seasons, super storms, tsunamis unparalleled in strength, and massive tornadoes. Those who survived the storms would likely die of secondary disasters such as wildfires, floods, starvation, exposure, disease, and the evil side of human nature itself. Not to mention the fallout from all the nuclear power plants and reactors that had been destabilized or destroyed all around the world.

All those thoughts rattled around in her brain while she was still trying to wrap her head around how the earthquake had destroyed the compound. "How is it even possible that the quake hit us so hard? Cheyenne Mountain was designed to withstand earthquakes. It was built under two thousand feet of granite and there is a system of one thousand giant springs in place to keep this complex from moving so much as an inch in the event of an earthquake. I mean, it's not possible..."

Daniel reached for her hand. "You can spout all the facts and schematics that you like but we're not talking about just any earthquake here. We're talking about a game changer and the way this place was built was not good enough to withstand this."

Sam pulled her hand away, still in denial. "Okay. Never mind. What are the final numbers we're looking at in terms of population survival?"

"Ten percent," Daniel said, his voice almost a whisper. "If that. This is mostly likely an extinction level event."

Sam felt a cold knot of dread forming in her stomach. She rubbed her face wearily. "Are we absolutely in the dark? Do we know for sure that California is gone?"

Daniel simply nodded.

That meant that her brother and her niece and nephew were most likely dead.

She fought back angry tears. "What is Jack planning to do now? Are we trying to get to the surface?"

"No, we're not trying to go up. We are trying to find more survivors, but we're not aiming for the surface. We don't - There is nothing there. I don't know if Jack has a plan yet. He's locked himself in the General's office."

Sam pushed the blanket off her legs and motions for Daniel to help her stand. "I'm going to talk to him right now."

"I don't know if that is such a good idea. Your leg."

"Damn my leg," she muttered. "I need to be on the front lines of this thing."

Daniel appeared unwilling to help, but he acquiesced when he realized that she was determined to go. "Just take it easy, Sam. I'll get you a crutch."

He disappeared for a few seconds and came back with a single crutch which she use to help balance herself. Her leg throbbed painfully as the blood rushed back to the wound. She ignored it entirely.

"By the way, did anyone ever find out what happened to Teal'c?"

"Yes," said Daniel, his voice hitching curiously. "He's dead."

Sam lowered her gaze as her vision began to swim. "Oh." Teal'c had been a good friend for a long time, and she could not imagine the team without him. She wiped away the single tear that fell and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Daniel hooked her arm over his shoulders and helped her limp through the infirmary.

Elliott was laying in the bed next to hers. HIs face was pale and his eyes were the color of dark bruises. He was covered in bandages and had an IV hanging from a pole, but he looked like he was going to make it. As she moved toward the door, she saw Siler lying in one of the beds, a bandage wrapped around his head, and Walter was not far away, his glasses broken and his leg enclosed in a cast. He smiled weakly at her as she passed, but Sam could not muster the right spirit to return his greeting. Felger was sitting in front of a cabinet, sleeping soundly with dried blood all over his white lab coat.

She looked down at her own uniform and discovered that she too looked like a serial killer covered in blood and grime. It did not matter. Everyone was covered in some amount of blood.

The hallway from the infirmary to the briefing room had been partially cleared so it was much easier to maneuver around what debris was left. Much like every other hallway, glow sticks were thrown everywhere, some green and some orange, to conserve the battery power of the flashlights and lanterns. It gave the base an otherworldly vibe that, for some reason, reminded Sam of a zombie movie she had seen once.

She shuddered at the thought and Daniel grasped her tighter around the waist. "I'm fine," she said, wriggling a little to loosen his grip.

"Sorry," he replied. "I was afraid you were going to fall or something."

By the time they reached the briefing room, Sam was out of breath. She bit her lip until it bled, writing in silent pain that she did not dare to vocalize.

Jack emerged from the General's office and made a beeline for her. "Daniel said you were alive. I'm sorry I didn't come visit you in the infirmary. I've been so busy here -"

"Hello to you, too, sir," said Sam, cutting him off. "Don't worry about it, Colonel, I'm just glad to see you again."

Jack ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm drowning here," he admitted. "We're up the creek without a paddle and our boat is sinking fast. You got any ideas, Carter? We could use that gigantic brain of yours right about now."

Sam sat down in one of the comfortable swivel chairs and reached for the pot of coffee sitting in the center of the table. Daniel took it from her and poured her a large cup. She took a moment to stare at Jack through down turned eyelashes. The left side of his face looked like he had been drug across asphalt, and his eye was completely swollen shut.

She shuddered. "Bring me up to speed with our options, sir."

Jack sat down heavily. "I'm not going to lie, our options are limited. The surface is out of the question. We're buried underneath the mountain and there is no way out without heavy equipment and we don't have the electricity to run the equipment. The escape hatches are all compromised. It would take weeks to dig out by hand and we don't have the life support to last that long. That leaves us with two options: stay here and die or use the gate to flee earth. Unless, of course, you can come up with a better plan."

Sam laced her fingers together in thought. It pained her to think of leaving earth, but she did not want to die trapped under the mountain. "Where would we go? Do you have somewhere in mind?"

"I don't know," Jack said. "The alpha site was destroyed by Anubis so that avenue of escape is off the table. I can't think of any of our allies who would be willing to take in such a large number of survivors. At last count, there was just over one hundred of us."

Daniel shook his head sadly. "We lost two airmen, two civilian scientists, and a marine during the night. That drops the number of survivors on the base to ninety-seven."

"Okay, ninety-seven then." He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side in true inquisitive Jack fashion. "So, any bright ideas, Carter? I'm open to all suggestions at this point."

It was a long shot, and Sam knew it, but it was the only place she could think of. If she could get Jack to agree to go there, they might just be offered sanctuary if they asked nicely.

"Well, sir, there is one place, but you're not going to like it." She hesitated before continuing. "The Tok'ra base."

"You're right," said Jack snappily. "I don't like it. I don't like it one bit. Choose somewhere else, Carter."

Sam pursed her lips and dug in for a fight. "There is nowhere else, sir. You said it yourself, none of our allies would be willing to take in such a large number of survivors. They don't have the resources or the space, but the Tok'ra do. And I'm sure my dad could convince them to let us stay, at least temporarily, until we can find a suitable world for ourselves and get back on our feet."

Jack stared at her with a dark expression on his face. It was half horrified and half angry at her suggestion.

"There is nowhere else, sir. You asked for suggestions, well, this is it."

"I don't like it," he repeated.

"I hate to say it," said Daniel, chiming in at last. "But I think Sam is right. The Tok'ra have the ability to grow additions to their tunnels so there would be plenty of room for both us and them, and I think Jacob could sell our case to them. It's not ideal, but we can't stay here. We have to go somewhere."

Jack clenched and unclenched his fist. The muscle in his jaw worked furiously as he held his anger in check.

Sam knew how he felt about the Tok'ra. He had never liked him but after the entire debacle with Kanan, he down right hated them. Sam could hardly blame him. She knew what it felt like to be taken hostage in her own body, helpless and utterly at the mercy of another. It was a horrible feeling, and not something she ever wanted to experience again, but she did not hate the Tok'ra. She had a deeper understanding that had come from the sacrifice of Jolinar, something Jack did not have. He only had his anger and disgust.

"No," he said at last. " _No_."

"Jack," Daniel began, but the Colonel held up his hand for silence.

"I will not go crawling to the Tok'ra if it is the last thing I do. I have no use for those snakes," he groused.

"Even if it means we all stay here and suffocate under the mountain?" asked Sam, getting angry at her superior officer's inability to separate his personal feelings from his duty to the people under his command. "I'm sorry, sir, but you have a duty to uphold as the highest ranking official here, and you are responsible for the lives of everyone in this mountain. You have to do what is right even if you don't like it."

"You don't have to tell me my duty, Major!" Jack shot to his feet and stalked out of the briefing room, slamming the door to the General's office behind him.

"Well," said Daniel after several tense moments had passed. "That went well."

Sam did not appreciate Daniel's sarcasm, but she brushed it off. She had bigger fish to fry. "We need for him to understand that this is a valid option. The _only_ option."

Daniel glanced down at his hands and then toward the closed door. "Oh, I think he understands just fine. That's why he's so angry."

Maybe Daniel was right. Either way, they need to come to some sort of consensus, and fast, because the base was literally killing them.

"Come on, Sam, let's go get something to eat."

Sam's head snapped up in surprise. "The kitchens are still functioning?" She did not feel particularly hungry, and she actually felt sick at the thought of food, but it had been over a day since she had eaten anything substantial and she knew she could use the calories.

"No," said Daniel. "But we're stocked to the gills with MRE's. Unfortunatly."

"Oh." Sam cast one last glance toward the General's office as she followed Daniel out of the room. "Okay."

She hoped that the Colonel would come to his senses and put away his personal aversion of the Tok'ra before it was too late for the rest of them. Jack was normally level headed when it came to making decisions of paramount importance but he was letting his distaste and personal history with the Tok'ra cloud his judgement on the matter. She hoped that Daniel was right and that Jack would come around.

Meals were being served in what was left of the rec room. Chairs had been brought down from the mess hall and some of the benches from the locker rooms had been carted in by the Marines. There was a line for MREs and Daniel offered to get Sam's food for her.

Sam agreed but only because she could not tolerate the pain in her leg for one second longer. It hurt to stand on it, and it was downright unbearable to walk on it, but she had never been the type of person to let a little pain stop her. This time was no exception.

She found an empty bench by the back wall and settle in, propping her leg up on the cool metal to keep the swelling from getting any worse. She popped a couple of painkillers that Janet had given her once she saw that Sam was determined to walk around on her mangled leg, and downed them with the bottle of water that Daniel brought back with him.

MREs, or Meals Ready-To-Eat, were never as good as they promised to be, but they were edible in a pinch. Each pouch contained an entree plus dessert, beverage powder, spoon, and flameless ration heater. Sam's meal consisted of meatball marinara, carrot cake, and strawberry flavored electrolyte powder. She had to admit that MREs had come a long way taste-wise in recent years.

"How did Teal'c die?" she asked after she had finished eating.

Daniel got a far away look in his eye like he was remembering something he wished he could forget. "We found him crushed underneath part of the ceiling in the locker room. I...I think it was quick."

Sam dipped her head to avoid looking at him. She could see the moisture in his eyes and she felt ashamed for having been the one to cause it. "He was a great friend," she ventured. "A great warrior, too."

Daniel merely nodded, obviously too choked up to speak, although he would never allow himself cry in front of her. "We should get back to the command center and see what is going on."

The feeling of dread that had settled in her stomach the day before reared its ugly head and she suddenly felt nauseous, the meatball marinara threatening to make a second appearance. Every fiber of her being was screaming out for her to stop and take a moment to grieve, but she could not. Not yet. There would be time for that later, now was a time for action. If she allowed herself to break now, she might never come back from the abyss.

She pushed the ball of dread deep down in her stomach, buried the hurt in her heart, and got back to her feet.

There was work to be done.

They ran into Jack in the hallway outside the rec room. He wore a dark expression and when he finally spoke his voice was stoney and left no room for further discussion. "I thought you should know, I've thought about your proposal and I've made my decision. It's final."


	3. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:** I thoughtlessly neglected to mention this in the previous chapters - many apologies - but this story takes place during season seven just before the episode _Death Knell_. That said, the season five episode _Divide and Conquer_ never happened in this timeline so Martouf/Lantash and Lieutenant Elliot (obviously, since he has already made an appearance in this story) are all still alive and relatively well. Okay, onward and upward!

* * *

 **Chapter III: Down the Rabbit Hole**

The white sands were blinding from the overpowering rays of the two suns overhead. Even with her sunglasses on, Sam had to squint against the harsh light, but the worst surprise was the blistering heat. It felt like she had walked into a furnace when she exited the event horizon. She had been there for less than two minutes and she was already wiping sweat off her brow. It made sense from a tactical perspective to choose such desolate and uninviting worlds for their bases, but it was downright insane in every other aspect.

She limped down the stone steps with her crutch under her good arm, out of the flow of traffic as more people poured through the gate behind her. She spotted several Tok'ra sentinels wearing their trademark sand colored uniforms standing a dozen paces away, but she did not recognize any of their faces. They wore stoney expressions and held their zats at the ready by their sides.

"Hello," Sam called. "Is my father here? Jacob Carter?"

One of the sentinels stepped forward and took off his ridiculous looking hat. "Are you Samantha Carter?"

"Yes," she replied.

"And these people, they are all Tau'ri?" He asked, watching the growing number of people with something akin to horror in his eyes.

Sam nodded. "That's right. We have a...situation. I need to speak with my father right away, and if at all possible, the high council as well."

The sentinel nodded to a second man who immediately detached himself from the group and ran off in the direction of the transportation rings.

Sam watched him disappear with a growing sense of dread. Perhaps it was the heat playing tricks on her mind, but the Tok'ra did not look at all pleased to see them. In their last few meetings, the Tok'ra had expressed their discontent with the Tok'ra/Tau'ri alliance and Sam suspected that they had been on the verge of severing all ties with the Tau'ri so their unexpected arrival on the Tok'ra's doorstep _en masse_ had thrown them for a loop.

Sam tried not to dwell too much on that fact.

When the sentinel returned moments later, he had Jacob and Martouf in tow.

Jacob's face was a mask of surprise. "Holy Hannah, Sam, look at you! What happened?"

How did she tell him that the Earth was lost? How did she tell him that his son and grandchildren were dead?

There was no easy way. "It's all gone," she said, choking up despite her best efforts to keep her emotions in check. "It's all gone."

Jacob grabbed her and pulled her in close for a hug. "What's gone?"

"Earth," she whispered, not daring to say it any louder for fear that she might totally lose her composure.

Her father pulled away, leaning back until he was at arm's length. He searched her face in shell shocked horror. "What do you mean the Earth is gone? Where you attacked? Was it the Goa'uld?"

Sam shook her head from side to side and fought the tears that welled up in her eyes. "No, dad. We weren't attacked. Do you remember the 'Big One' everyone has talked about for years? Well, it happened, but that was only the beginning."

Martouf, who had no idea what the "Big One' was, looked confused. "Samantha, are you saying that the Tau'ri has been destroyed?"

"Yes," she replied, wiping away the few stray tears that escaped her control and coursed down her cheeks. "By massive natural disasters of every kind. We had nowhere else to go so we fled here. We were hoping that the Tok'ra would extend their kindness to us and offer us sanctuary. For all we know, we're all that is left of the Tau'ri. There are ninety-seven of us."

Martouf's expression was one of deep concern. He reached out and touched Sam's arm as if he thought to comfort her but he quickly pulled his hand away and rearranged his features to a more neutral expression. "I am sorry to hear that. We will of course be glad to aid you if we can. Come, bring your wounded to our infirmary."

Jacob stared at the faces surrounding them but when he spoke it was Selmak who did the talking, obviously taking over for a distraught Jacob. "I will inform the High Council of your arrival and of your request. They will most likely wish to speak with you and with whomever is in charge so I suggest you take some time to prepare yourselves."

Jack, who had been standing nearby, took that opportunity to throw his two cents into the conversation. "Just so we're clear, we're not talking about a long term deposit here. We just need somewhere to crash until we can get back on our feet."

Selmak ignored the Colonel as if he had never spoken. "Martouf, take them to the bath chamber and see that they get whatever they need. I will assemble the council."

Martouf motioned for Sam and Jack to follow him.

Jack hesitated. "Doctor Frasier!"

Janet scurried over with a hopeful look on her face.

"Marty says we can use their infirmary. Take the most critical there first and if there's room start bringing the more stable patients in out of the heat. We're off to see a man about a horse."

"Yes, sir," she said, hurrying away to carry out his orders.

Jack scowled at Martouf. "Alright then, Marty, led the way."

Sam fell into step beside Martouf who slowed his stride to compensate for her slower pace. It was difficult to walk through the soft sand with a crutch and she nearly fell over several times. Her wounded leg could not fully support her weight without the crutch so walking became a laborious chore.

Martouf shot her a worried look and even reached out to steady her once or twice. "I could carry you," he offered.

"No, thanks," she said. "I can make it." The truth was that she was too stubborn to accept help from anyone. She was that much like her father.

Jack followed close behind, sulking and glaring the whole way. Sam could feel his eyes on the back of her head, burning a hole in her skull. She knew he did not want to be there, but she was glad that he had make the right decision to bring them there all the same.

Once they were in the tunnels, Sam could breathe easier. It was at least forty degrees cooler and the soft light did not hurt her eyes.

Many of the Tok'ra stared at her as she passed by them. A few even ventured to ask what had happened, but Sam did not have the energy to repeat the story again and again so she said nothing.

The bath chambers were at the end of a very long corridor. There was no door or door covering and no absolutely no privacy.

"The Tok'ra keep no secrets from one another," Martouf reminded her.

"I can see that," she said, suddenly very uncomfortable.

He must have sensed her reluctance. "If you prefer, I could stand guard outside so that no one else enters the bath chamber while you are here. I promise to keep my distance and be a perfect gentleman."

"I'll do it," snapped Jack harshly, speaking for the first time since entering the tunnels.

Martouf held his hands up in front of him and backed out of the room. "Very well. I will go see if Selmak has assembled the council yet," he said. "I shall return shortly. There are clean towels in that basket by the wall and the soap and first aid kit are in the cabinet under the sinks." He bowed his head ever slow slightly and disappeared.

"Umm," Jack said once Martouf was gone, "why don't you go first, Carter. I'll wait outside and keep the locals away. If you need help...I'll just be outside."

Sam watched him go and breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally alone.

The bath chamber was a large room with a rectangular pool in the center of the floor. It was filled with crystal clear water and large enough to swim laps in. Clearly, it was intended to be used by several people at once. There were crystalline benches spaced every so often around it and each bench had a set of steps in front of it leading down into the pool. The sinks were on the far wall and the shower stalls, five in total, were located along the back wall.

She retrieved the first aid kit and sat down on one of the benches, laying her crutch on the floor and stretching her leg out in front of her. She had not had time to change her clothes or clean up properly after her harrowing ride in the elevator because the power had been completely knocked out at the SGC. Her clothes were soaked in dried blood and grime and her shirt stuck to her skin where bloody scratches and minor abrasions had dried without being properly bandaged.

As gently as possible, she removed her uniform shirt, an almost impossible mission with the sling around her neck. She had to remove the sling to undress and she took care not to jostle her arm too much. Her black tank top was easier to remove because it lacked the sleeves to catch on the arm brace but she hissed in pain each time she had to rip the fabric out of a dried wound. Her pants were another adventure. Janet had cut the left leg of her pants off at the knee and bandaged her wounded calf in gauze and tape. It would be impossible to keep dry so Sam gingerly removed it.

She used the first aid kit to disinfect the cuts and rubbed a silver gel on them that acted as a band aid, sealing the skin like super glue and protecting it from microbes in the air and water.

She slid into the pool and was surprised to find that the water was warm like a hot spring. There was no obvious source of heat, but it never cooled. It soothed her aching muscles and made her want to take a nap. She soaped up and attempted to get rid of the horror of the past few days. She scrubbed her skin until it was red and raw and she took her time washing her hair, a task made difficult with only one good arm.

The water around her was filthy, but there were small circular filters all along the sides of the pool that constantly recirculated the water, processing the dirt and impurities out, keeping the water clean without having to drain it. It was an ingenious system, and one Sam might have been able to appreciate better if she were in a different state of mind.

Sighing, she dragged her aching body out of the pool and dried off with a soft towel. She hated to put her filthy clothes back on after getting clean, but she was so exhausted and scattered brained that she had not thought to grab her bag before following Martouf into the subterranean tunnels.

"Oh, well," she muttered to herself. "Hindsight is twenty-twenty."

"Colonel, you can come in now!" she called after she was dressed.

He stuck his head around the door like a squirrel, eyes closed tight. "Are you decent?"

"Yes, sir."

He looked dead on his feet. She did not want to ask him for help but, "Sir, could you help me put my boot on?"

"Absolutely," he said flatly, kneeling down and grabbing the boot from beside the bench. "Hey, Carter, do you think I made the right decision bringing everyone here?"

Sam tried on a smile, the first one in days, but it felt wrong. "It was the only decision, sir."

He glowered at the floor. "Yeah, I keep telling myself that."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, sir," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing. It's been hard on everyone. We've all lost people so we all just take a step back and take a deep breathe. Somehow, it's going to be alright." She did not believe it herself, and it tasted every bit like the lie it was, but she had to say something to keep them going. They were running on emotional fumes.

He stood and turned his back on her. "Are you done here, Carter?"

Sam felt helpless. She knew Jack was wrestling with his conscience on more than one level, and she wanted to help him, but she did not know how. "Yes, sir. I'll wait outside."

There were no benches to sit on in the hallway. In lieu of them, Sam slid down the smooth crystal wall and sat on the floor. It felt good to relax, even if it were only for a little while. She tried very hard not to think about Earth or about her family. Her very soul felt rent in two when she did.

"Are you alright, Samantha?" Martouf asked, breaking her train of thought before it could derail itself and her carefully maintained facade.

She looked up to find him standing over her and she wondered how long he had been there. "Yes."

He knelt down beside her and gestured to her leg. "I have brought a healing device. Would you allow me to heal your leg for you? It will not take long."

The healing device might have looked like some Medieval torture device, but it could work something akin to miracles. When in use, it gave off a warm sensation that was not altogether unpleasant and Sam could feel the injury slowly knitting itself back together under Martouf's expert hand. When he finished with her leg, he also healed the laceration on her head.

Bones took much longer and more effort to mend and Sam gently pushed his hand away when he moved the healing device toward her arm. "Thank you, but don't worry about my arm. It's not the first time its been broken. I can deal with it. Besides, we don't have time for it now, maybe later."

Martouf removed the hand device with a small smile. "As you wish." He stood and extended his hand to help her to her feet.

It was wonderful to stand without crippling pain ripping through her body. She, like most people, took her good health for granted until it was taken from her and then she lamented its loss.

"Are you feeling better, Samantha?"

"Yes," she said, tracing the tattered edge of her pants, lost in the memory of the falling elevator.

Martouf gently brushed her hand away from her uniform and briefly grasped it in his own.

His hand was warm and the skin was soft. Her hand fit perfectly into his like it belonged there, and her cheeks flushed like a shy schoolgirl at the thought. She felt like a fool for reacting in such a manner but her emotions were all over the place from everything that had happened.

She released his hand and pulled away to put some space between them. When she looked up, she saw Jack standing behind Martouf his mouth hanging open in shocked. Sam had not heard him approach and she felt like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar.

Jack shot Martouf a withering glare and his jaw snapped shut. He brushed past them, his back stiff as a board, and headed back toward the rings, but the Tok'ra base was a maze they were unfamiliar with and he stopped after only a few steps. "Is the council ready yet?" he asked curtly over his shoulder without looking at either of them.

Martouf did not appear ruffled by Jack's cold shoulder. "They are waiting for you. I will take you to the council chambers now."

"Fine," said Jack, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

The short walk from the bath chambers to the council chambers was tense and silent. Jack glowered at every Tok'ra who passed and Sam was stuck working damage control in his wake.

Inside the council chambers, most of the seats were occupied. Sam recognized several of the faces around the table including Malek and her father.

Martouf ushered them inside and indicated that they should sit down beside Jacob.

Her father managed a weak smile. "Hi, Sam."

"Hi, Dad."

The highest ranking member present at the emergency meet was Garshaw of Belot. "The Tok'ra offer their greetings to our allies, the Tau'ri, and we extend our deepest sympathies for the loss of your world. Please tell us what has happened."

Sam glanced at Jack who nodded for her to take the lead. She was well versed in the scientific nuances than he was and she could regurgitate the entire scenario without

missing a single fact.

She cleared her throat and launched into a long winded discourse describing the events that had led to their current situation. When she finished, she took a deep breath to rearrange her thoughts into a cohesive argument for their request for sanctuary. "Those of us lucky enough to have survived the earthquake that destroyed the SGC were trapped underground with no means of escape except the Stargate. There are likely small pockets of survivors in some parts of the world but we have no way of reaching them. Maybe someday we could return in ships but as of right now that option is off the table."

Garshaw seemed unmoved by Sam's explanation of events. "Were these changes caused by natural causes or do you believe they were caused by something else?"

"You're asking me if I think we were attacked? That perhaps there was some sort of weapon used to destabilize the Earth's core from space?" It made sense, and it had crossed her mind, but she had no proof. In the end, it was easier to think the Earth had given up the ghost than to think it was destroyed by their enemies because that meant they had missed something, that _she_ had missed something, and that the destruction could have been preventable. And _that_ would mean it was all _her_ fault. "I don't know," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

Garshaw was obviously unconvinced but moved on. "Why did you choose to come here? Surely there were other places you could have gone, some better suited to your needs. Why did you choose us?"

"There really was nowhere else," replied Sam. "None of our other allies have the resources or the space. You are our only hope and we throw ourselves on your mercy. We are asking for sanctuary."

Sam could not read a single face on the council. They were completely emotionless. It was a worrying conundrum and one that Sam was afraid would bite them in the ass before it was over. The proverbial bridge between their two peoples had been smoldering for a long time, it just had not went up in flames yet.

"We will consider your request," replied Garshaw. "For now, return to your people. Our healers will assist with your wounded. Bring any other requests or problems to Martouf or Jacob."

Jack stood and stalked out of the chamber. Sam followed him to the rings, and the short trip back to their camp was permeated by a tense silence.

In their absence, Daniel had taken charge of the situation and they arrived to find a flurry of activity. They had brought everything with them that they could salvage from the SGC, and a veritable tent city had been erected not far from the gate. Several of the Tok'ra guards were standing watch nearby, their keen eyes looking for the most minuet sign of trouble.

"I hope you don't mind," Daniel said when they walked up to the large command sized tent he was standing in front of, deep in conversation with a Tok'ra named Elise. "I figured it was best to get the tents up before dark. Elise says the days are thirty hours long on this planet and it won't be dark for a good ten hours. Apparently, the nights are rather cool so we'll have some respite from the heat, but the days can be deadly on the surface."

"Good job," Jack muttered, disappearing into the tent without a backward glance.

Sam begrudgingly followed him inside, bracing herself for a verbal haranguing. "Sir, before you say anything, I know what it looked like."

Jack thrust his hand out to silence her. "I don't care what happened between you and Marty, or if nothing happened at all. I am tired and sore and I just want to get some sleep. I don't think the Tok'ra want us here anymore than we want to be here so you had better prepare yourself for a big fat 'no' to come down the pipe before long. In the meantime, let's just get some rest, okay?"

"Okay."

She left the tent feeling worse than she had before, but there was nothing to be done about it. She found a small tent that had been erected just for her and she fell face first onto the cot in the corner, exhausted and weary beyond words. She retrieved the bottle of painkillers she had stashed in her pack and swallowed two of them without water.

It was too hot inside the tent to sleep so Sam sat in the doorway watching the people around her going about life as best as they could, trying to cope and adapt as their whole worlds crumbled to ashes around them.

Sam felt a pang of regret in her chest. She had not had time to grieve yet. No one had. It was going to be a long, agonizing process for all of them.

A shadow fell over her. "Major Carter?"

Sam looked up to find a Tok'ra watching her closely. "Yes."

He smiled at her and his voice was soft when he spoke, obviously the voice of the host. "My name is Asa. We were asked to bring these chests to you and your people. We hope you will accept them."

There were five pairs of Tok'ra standing nearby, each pair carried a chest with long handles between them.

"What's in them?" she asked curiously, following the young man over to them.

"Ice," he said simply.

Sam's heart did somersaults at the prospect of ice. She eagerly lifted one of the lids and gasped in shock at the sight of the pristine cubes of crystal clear frozen heaven. She grabbed a cube of ice and ran it over her face and down her neck, sighing at the momentary relief it brought. She took another cube and popped it into her mouth, savoring the delicious coldness of it.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

The young Tok'ra beamed at her. "Where shall we put them?"

"Over there by the biggest tent, please."

"I think you should know that it was the base commander's idea, Major Carter. He told me to tell you that if you need anything else, not to hesitate to ask."

"You mean Malek?" she asked, surprised. She had met him only once and he had not seemed like the charitable type, but given the circumstance of that meeting, circumstances not so different from their own at present, she should not have judged him so harshly.

The man nodded happily, uncharacteristically so for a Tok'ra. "Yes."

Sam could not express her gratitude enough. "Please tell him that we are unendingly grateful for the ice and for his kindness."

He bowed his head slightly. "Of course. Please do not forget what I said."

After they left, Sam sent Daniel to inform the rest of the camp about the ice and a long line had formed as people gathered with cups and buckets. She left him in charge of seeing that it was divvied out fairly and, for the first time since they had arrived on the Tok'ra base, Sam felt the weight of the world lift from her shoulders. It was a momentary shift in responsibilities, but she was thankful for the breathing room.

She took her cup of ice and found a small boulder to sit on near the edge of the camp. She did not think about everything that had happened, about everything that she had lost, there would be time for that but she could not allow herself to break just yet. Instead, she tried to clear her mind. She did not want to think about _anything_ for a little while: not Jack or Daniel, not Martouf or her father, not the camp or the subterranean tunnels below them, not about yesterday or tomorrow, and certainly not about Earth. She just wanted a quiet moment all to herself where she did not have to be Major Carter or the second-in-command of what was left of the Tau'ri.

She just wanted to be Sam.

Just for a moment.


End file.
